


as though there were no tomorrow

by wheatfields



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Slow Dancing, Supply Runs, Zombie AU, Zombie Apocalypse, god they are so in love, scavenging, slight songfic, some sad paragraphs because of the State Of The World but i promise it's pretty much all fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:40:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29692392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheatfields/pseuds/wheatfields
Summary: on a supply run at an abandoned residential complex, atsumu and shinsuke come across an old record player — and with it, a moment of peace.they figure: maybe the world can stop spinning for at least 3 minutes.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 12
Kudos: 29
Collections: Atsukita Week, Haikyuu!! Apocalypse Week





	as though there were no tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> i’m back with another atsukita week / apocalypse week prompt combo — but i promise it’s fluff this time!!! don’t let the zombie au fool you!!!
> 
> atsukita week day 3 prompts: slow dancing + domestic + “to have and to hold”
> 
> HQ apocalypse week prompts: hopefulness + zombie au + scavenging
> 
> title is taken from “love me as though there were no tomorrow” by nat king cole. hope you like the fic! 🥰

“please work, _please_ work, _please work_ …” atsumu prays, though he doubts there’s anyone listening.

he and shinsuke have been trying every single home in this residential complex for over 15 minutes now, not having much luck with the doors. as much as he’d like to think it was no big deal — and maybe, in another time, 15 minutes outside wouldn’t have been — he was starting to feel _really_ antsy with the zombies milling about.

he wants to believe he has everything under control, but this is the 7th door he’s attempted to pick and his hand is starting to cramp up. and the cramping was just the cherry on top of the shaking (from the cold, or the hunger, or the fear).

“let me try, atsumu,” shinsuke offers, gently placing his hand on the younger man’s.

if it were anyone else (and if it were osamu in particular), atsumu would have denied them, refusing to concede or admit defeat, and would have stubbornly continued with his struggle.

but this isn’t anyone else — it’s shinsuke. so he relents. “okay.”

atsumu passes shinsuke the makeshift lockpicking kit from his backpack (the pick he was using had already been dulled out), and shinsuke quickly gets to work.

in a few more minutes, the lock gives a _click!_ — and just in time, too, since they could hear some groans from the undead approaching.

they hurry inside the door, making sure to close it quietly behind them.

“ah, home sweet home… for the next hour or somethin’,” atsumu declares, hands on his waist as his eyes survey the inside of the house.

he’s had plenty of experience gathering supplies from no-longer-inhabited homes in the last few years. he makes mental notes of the place: a decently-sized home with 2 levels; most likely 3 rooms upstairs, and 2 downstairs, apart from the open living/dining/kitchen area. based on the size, he was sure it belonged to a family once. he thinks that if he had the chance to see how it was before, he probably would have described the place as cozy and warm. but right now, it just felt empty; 4 walls and a roof that had lost their purpose.

he relays his logistical findings to shinsuke (there would be time for sentimental musings later), who says he would cover the rooms upstairs.

“gotcha. i’ll go start on the kitchen,” atsumu confirms. “check in every 10 minutes?” he sets a timer on his wristwatch, one of the few luxuries he still owns that has proved to be money well-spent, having endured the roughest, most unprecedented times.

shinsuke nods, and turns towards the stairs. “be safe.”

“always am.” atsumu smiles. “love ya!” he calls out, watching shinsuke head up. he waits for shinsuke to echo it back before moving to the kitchen.

after combing through the fridge, pantry, and cupboards, atsumu manages to gather some medicines, items for first aid, tools and utensils, various canned goods, and dog food. it’s a pretty decent haul, and a lot better than nothing (which happens more often than he would like to recount).

the timer on his watch beeps. _time to check in._ “shinsuke?”

atsumu waits a moment for him to respond, but even one minute is a second too long in times like this — especially since it isn’t like shinsuke to get distracted while they’re out on a supply run.

“shin?” atsumu calls again, his feet are already moving him forward, instinct and athleticism taking control.

a door is ajar upstairs, revealing walls painted blue — and thankfully, shinsuke, who seems preoccupied looking through drawers and shelves.

“God, shin, i was worried,” atsumu pants. “i called yer name, and didn’t hear ya call back.”

“i didn’t realize the time—” shinsuke turns around to see the worried, almost distraught, expression on atsumu’s face. “oh, my love, i’m so sorry.”

he moves away from the cabinets to grasp atsumu’s hand, and atsumu pulls him in for an embrace. shinsuke rests his head against atsumu’s chest and listens, waiting for the taller man’s heartbeat to return to its normal pace.

while allowing himself this moment of peace, atsumu scans the room. with the (upturned) desk beside the window and the shelves (and floor) full of books, he realizes it must have been a study. then, his eyes stop on a peculiar object.

“oh! is that what i think it is?”

shinsuke smiles to himself, thankful for the distraction that brought atsumu back to normal. he follows atsumu’s gaze to see what it was that caught his attention. “ah yes, i think so.”

atsumu gently loosens his hold around shinsuke to move toward the object of interest. “a record player! wow. been forever since i saw one of these.”

shinsuke watches his beloved’s eyes gleam, not unlike a lightbulb going off, as he searches the area.

“what’re ya doin’?”

“tryin’ to find something we can play on this thing.”

shinsuke sighs, eyeing the broken records and torn paper sleeves scattered on the ground. “while that’d be nice, i really doubt—”

“oh hey, this looks like it’s in one piece!” atsumu picks up one of the black disks and returns to the record player. he examines the machine for a bit before going, “aha! it’s the wind-up type, which means it doesn’t need electricity. i guess whoever used to live here liked antiques.”

shinsuke tilts his head, questions at the ready.

“if i remember right, ya gotta wind it up around 20 times to play a record,” atsumu says, thinking out loud.

“how do ya know all this?” shinsuke asks.

“ah, remember when bokkun and ‘kaashi brought back a buncha books on their supply run last month?” he continues turning the knob and shinsuke nods. “there was one about old timey technology. got bored the other day and ended up readin’ it. lucky!”

atsumu places the record onto the turntable and positions the needle, filling the air with the sound of violins and a piano — sounds neither of them had heard in ages.

“don’t think i know this one,” shinsuke mutters. he looks at atsumu to see his eyes burning; softly, muted, as if they hold a request he’s too hesitant to verbalize.

a baritone voice begins to sing:

_“love me as though there were no tomorrow;  
take me out of this world tonight…”_

despite their lack of fluency in the language, they somewhat understand; love and music were universal, after all.

_“take me, make me forget my sorrow  
so when i wake tomorrow, i’ll know our love was right…”_

atsumu reaches out a hand to shinsuke, his question articulated in action. shinsuke answers, taking his hand and stepping closer in response.

they figure: maybe the world can stop spinning for at least 3 minutes.

_“kiss me as though it were now or never,  
teach me all that a heart should know…”_

they sway in each other’s arms, cautious with their footing and unsure of how to carry their bodies. it had been a long, long time since they had last danced together — there hadn’t been the time or place to indulge in such things ever since the world they used to know had ceased to exist.

but right now, such a world does not exist. right now, their world is just this blue room.

_“love me as though there were no tomorrow;  
oh, my darling, love me — don’t ever let me go…”_

no words are spoken as the music swells, not by the singer or by either of the two souls holding each other close; the way that nothing further needs to be said in the kind understanding and comfort of home.

they kiss and it brings them back to that day when the world felt like it was made for just the two of them. they kiss and it feels like home. they kiss and they remember what they had solemnly vowed: that their home has always been with each other, and that the other himself is home.

_“love me as though there were no tomorrow;  
oh, my darling, love me — don’t ever let me go…”_

the song ends all too soon when the record stutters to a halt. they pull away, sighing.

“that song coulda been a short one, but i’m pretty sure there were others on that record,” atsumu says, pouting.

“maybe ya broke it,” shinsuke replies cheekily.

“what!” atsumu exclaims, defensive. “no i didn’t! it just… died, i guess? it was an antique anyway!”

shinsuke lets out a sound similar to a balloon deflating, his eyes crinkling up at the sides. “atsumu, i was just jokin’!” he continues to laugh, rendering the taller man who holds him speechless.

a few moments pass and shinsuke manages to quell the bubbling in his chest, opening his eyes again to see tears in atsumu’s. “what’s wrong? i didn’t upset ya, did i?”

“shin,” atsumu finally utters, breathless as a smile spreads across his face while his tears threaten to spill. “you were laughin’.”

“i was, wasn’t i? so why are ya cryin’?”

“i don’t know, it’s just… it’s been a long time since i saw ya laugh that much,” atsumu confesses.

shinsuke hums, wiping atsumu’s tears away. “i guess it’s just been a pretty good day.”

“yeah, it has.” atsumu smiles, eyes fond and ardent.

“c’mon,” shinsuke says, unwrapping himself from atsumu’s embrace but keeping his hand in his. “we still got more rooms to go through.”

“let’s go through ‘em together, shin,” atsumu proposes.

shinsuke smiles and his eyes sparkle, mirroring the gold bands he and atsumu wear around their necks when they catch the light.

“lead the way, atsumu.”

in this new world, tomorrows are rarely promised. but sometimes there are days like this — good days — that remind them of the more important promises that have been made and kept: that you will always have someone who not only feels like home but _is_ home; someone to have and to hold, for better or worse; someone who loves you as though there were no tomorrow; someone to take your hand and ask you to dance — whether the music comes from a record player, or a radio, or someone humming, or just the sound of your hearts beating as one.

**Author's Note:**

> this soft domestic zombie au is actually so personal to me, i don’t know why… i truly loved writing this and i feel like it might be one of my favorite pieces so far, haha. hope you enjoyed it as much as i do! let me know what you think. 💗
> 
> [fic graphic tweet](https://twitter.com/kitsumushoyo/status/1364840077633875971) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/kitsumushoyo)


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